Pure Evil in Liquid Form
by Kate Higgins
Summary: The Fang Gang head to Las Vegas for a celebratory long weekend. Angel, Cordelia, tequila. This is beyond fluff. It's uber-fluff. But of the slightly plotty kind


Pure Evil in Liquid Form  
  
by Katharine [kaffeineaddict@hotmail.com]  
Summary: Las Vegas. Angel, Cordelia, tequila. You do the math. This is beyond fluff. It's uber-fluff.  
Rating: PG-13, due to copious amounts of alcohol, and some mild innuendo.  
Disclaimer: I wish. Oh, come on, like they're mine. Would I really be writing fanfiction if they were? Nope, nu-uh.  
Spoilers: None, really.  
Author's note: This fic is a bit in the future. The Darla thing is ancient history, Angel is way over Buffy, Cordelia is still working with him.  
Inspired, in part, by the Cordy quote: "Vampires. Sloth Demons. You want to know what's really, really evil? Tequila." from Redefinition, I think.   
Written in a moment of post-depression madness. It cheered me up - nothing better than writing or reading something warm and fluffy.  
Distribution: Want, take, have, let me know where  
Feedback: Is a lovely, lovely word. As well as a lovely thing.  
  
* * *  
  
Yawning, Angel blinked. Then the pain hit. He felt like he had spent the last night being hit over the head with some kind of very blunt, very heavy weapon. He didn't move. He just knew that any small movement would result in shooting pains throughout his whole body, possibly followed by the need to vomit. Squinting against the glare of the electric light, which had obviously been left on all night, he felt a huge sense of relief that someone had had the presence of mind to at least draw the curtains.   
  
He supposed it was his fault. Well, at least, he had agreed to come on this little trip. Cordelia had demanded that they do something in celebration. He smiled as his memory cleared a little through the haze. They had just discovered that his soul was permanent. Which meant, he didn't have to live in constant fear of becoming Angelus again, and killing all of his friends. Apparently, the Powers that Be had been so worried by his recent foray into the dark side that they had decided, against their previous judgements, to restore his soul to him for good. Cordelia had got the news through a surprisingly painless vision, and had immediately jumped up and hugged him. He smiled at the memory - he had just stood there, confused that this beautiful woman had just wrapped herself around him, when usually it took her hours to recover from her visions. Not that he wanted Cordelia in that way.   
  
He knew he was lying to himself, but he didn't want to contemplate his feelings. Now, he could actually be with her, but he didn't think that she would want it. So he kept quiet. He had thought that the minute he had his soul anchored forever, he would go straight back to Buffy, but, to be honest, he didn't want to. He would much rather stay in Los Angeles, fighting the evil there. He had better friends there than he ever had had in Sunnydale- Wesley, Gunn, on some level Kate, and Cordelia. Just a friend. He missed Doyle like hell; Doyle had been the first person who had really wanted to be his friend, and, together with Cordelia, managed to open him up a little. Maybe that was another reason he wanted to stay near her- he was afraid that, without her 'humanising influence', as Doyle had put it, he might just clam right back up again. He didn't want that to happen.  
  
Sinking further back into the the white, somewhat starchy hotel pillows, he tried to remember what had happened the night before. It was a little hazy, but there was one thing he remembered - never challenge Cordelia to a tequila-drinking contest.  
  
* * *  
  
"Oh my God! Isn't this, like, so beyond fantastic!" Cordelia flung open the door of the room, and gazed about it. In the centre was a huge double bed, which had beautifully patterned linen and was incredibly comfortable looking. The room was large, and had huge cupboards. Which was just as well, thought Angel, as he carried her two massive suitcases in. He had begun to regret playing the gentleman, and insisting on carrying them for her. His own small case was in the hall way, as their rooms were adjoining. Their flight had just got in, and it was early evening. Dark enough that he wouldn't burn to a crisp.  
  
Cordy had flung open the heavy curtains, and slid open the french doors. She was standing on the balcony, looking out across the city. He stepped out, and stood next to her.   
  
"Wow. This is the best view. You can see like the whole city!" For there, stretched out below and in front of them, were the bright lights of Las Vegas. Angel looked at his seer's face. She looked almost childish in her excitement. He smiled, and thought that maybe this hadn't been such a bad idea after all.   
  
She turned to him, and said: "Okay, I'm going to unpack my things, and find something to wear, then you are coming with me and we are going to do some serious gambling! This is going to be so much fun! Give me an hour." With that, she ushered him towards the door, and closed it in his face. Now he remembered why he hadn't wanted to come on this trip. It involved socialising, and gambling. Two things he wasn't particularly keen on.  
  
Finding the key to his room, which was ajacent to Cordelia's, he opened the door, walked straight over to the bed, and collapsed, groaning. They were there for a long weekend. A very long weekend, by the looks of it. It was being paid for out of the huge profit they'd gained after helping a very grateful millionaire. Wesley's room was on the floor below, as they had booked late and couldn't all stay together. He was a little relieved really- there was only so much time with Cordelia he could stand. Anyway, Wes had a friends left over from his council days; a female friend, and closer than a colleague from the sound of it, Angel thought, smiling. Good for Wesley. Needless to say, as soon as they had arrived, Wes had phoned his friend, and was spending the evening with her. He was going to meet up with them in the morning, which left Angel to a night of expensive fun with Cordelia, since only the three of them had come.  
  
An hour later, Angel had changed his clothes, and was feeling much better. He didn't like flying, particularly as he was under constant threat of vaporising if someone opened their window near him. Cordelia had insisted that they should fly, because she hated long car journeys. So, smitten as he denied he was, he had agreed. He raised his hand to knock at the door just as it swung open, to reveal...  
  
Angel tried to stop himself from staring and gawking. Cordelia looked stunning, as usual, in a tight black sparkly top and short deep pink skirt, that clung to her body in all the right places. She didn't seem to notice his staring, and looked him up and down.  
  
"So, are you ready to witness the gambling genius that is Cordelia Chase? And, you have the money, right?" She looked a little worried, which made Angel chuckle.  
  
"Yes, Cordelia, I have money, but I really don't want to lose it all tonight..."   
  
"Did you not hear me say that I am a genius when it comes to the multiplying of cash? You'll just have to watch, and learn." Angel grimaced. His bad mood didn't last for long, however, when she hooked her arm through his, and looked expectantly up at him. "Come on, Mr 18th Century, you should be able to manage to escort me downstairs."   
  
"Why, certainly, Miss Chase," he replied, grinning down at her as he lead her towards the elevator. Cordelia felt herself go weak at the knees from a mixture of his gentle touch on her arm, and the ice melting smile. Just because he has his soul for good, she berated herself, does not mean that he wants me. She just wished that he would take the opportunity, but she was fairly sure that he didn't feel that way about her. Sighing, she allowed herself to enjoy the moment, as they waited for the elevator to arrive.  
  
* * *  
  
A couple of hours later, they were sitting at the bar. Cordelia was looking very smug as Angel counted out their winnings, a delighted expression settling on his face.  
  
"My God, Cordy, I think we've more than doubled the cash," he said in amazement. She grinned like a cheshire cat.  
  
"Well, you were useless at first, but when you picked it up, we were unbeatable! We should do this in LA too! We wouldn't even need to beg people to pay us any more - if they refused, we could just say, 'oh well, we have too much money to know what to do with it anyway! Well, a girl can dream," she said, responding to his skeptical look. "So, we've done the gambling pretty successfully. You know what else is traditional in Vegas?" He was worried by her evil expression.  
  
"Counting your winnings and going to bed early?" he said a little desperately.  
  
"No, silly. Staying up all night drinking! Come on, you and me, bottle of tequila." Angel shook his head firmly.  
  
"There is no way I am letting you do that."  
  
"What, are you scared? Scared that I might drink you, I dunno, under the table?" It was a challenge. Angel couldn't back down now, or she'd never respect him. Not that she did at the moment, but it would be worse.  
  
"It would hardly be fair. I am a vampire; takes a lot more to get me drunk. And, I don't want to deal with your hangover in the morning." She raised an eyebrow at that last comment.  
  
"Au contraire, my fangy friend, I can assure you that it would be you, and not me, sprawled across the carpet in the morning."  
  
He stared into her eyes; she stared right back.  
  
"Is that a bet?"  
  
"Try me," she said, never flinching under his gaze. Without looking away from her, Angel called over to the waiter, ordering a bottle of tequila and shot glasses. He knew that this was stupid, and wrong, but he could not resist. He just really, really wanted to prove her wrong. When the bottle arrived, Cordelia lined the glasses up in front of both of them, and filled them with tequila. She put the salt shakers and plate of lemons just in between them. "On the count of three. One, two, three!"  
  
With that, they both grabbed the glasses, knocking each one back, trying to drink faster than the other person. After each shot, they licked salt from their hand, and sucked on a slice of lemon. Angel somehow finished first - it must have been his vampire speed, because he was sure he had spent most of the time staring at his secretary's pink tongue sensually licking the salt of her hand. He looked triumphantly at Cordelia, who was just gulping down the last shot of burning liquid.   
  
"Did I prove my point?" he asked, smirking at her. She scowled back, and started refilling the glasses.  
  
"Alright, you won the battle, but I shall win the war," she said sweetly. "Let's go again." If Angel had been thinking completely straight, he would never have let her do this. Unfortunately, the tequila buzz seemed to already be slightly effecting his judgement, and he just looked on. Anyway, he really wanted to see the way her tongue grazed her hand as she swallowed the salt, and her teeth close around the lemon... Angel was becoming a little turned on by the erotic, in his mind, display.  
  
Little did he know that Cordelia was thinking exactly the same thing. In fact, specifically, she was wishing to be the hand the salt was licked off. She was starting to feel a little warm, a mixture of the tequila, and the sexy looks that Angel was giving her. Wait, sexy looks? She must be hallucinating. Her fingers closed around the first shot glass again.  
  
"Okay, three... two... one!"  
  
And they both worked through the glasses and the salt and lemon mixture, each putting on more of a display than before.  
  
* * *  
  
Present  
  
Angel groaned again, trying to sink even further down through the pillows as his head seemed to threaten to explode. He tried to remain perfectly still, blocking out background noises. He moaned.  
  
No, he didn't. He hadn't made any noise at all. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open again. Mustering up all the strength he had, he rolled onto his side. And there, lying next to him, staring back into his face, brown hair strewn over the make-up smudged pillow, was Cordelia. His sudden movement made her snap her eyes open, but she was still in a dream-filled haze.   
  
"Morning," she murmured sleepily. Then the hangover hit, full force "Oh my god!" she screeched, as she realised who was lying beside her. Her high tone of voice made them both wince. "What... what happened last..." it suddenly hit her. "Oh, god," she repeated, pulling the covers to her neck, trying to cover up her nakedness.  
  
He looked in horror down at his own body, finding that he was just as nude as she was. They were both lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling. "Uh, do you remember us..."  
  
"Uh-huh", she said with conviction. "You?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Uh, so, how are you?"  
  
"I'm, I'm good," she replied shyly. "Um, you?"  
  
"I'm..." he wrestled with brushing their encounter off, or confessing his real feelings. "I'm more than good. That was..."  
  
"Wow," she completed for him. He smiled in relief that she seemed to feel the same way that he did. "So, do you remember... everything?" He thought back. Surprisingly, all the events were as clear as a bell in his head. The hangover hadn't effected his memory at all.  
  
"Everything. Do you..." he saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. "Cordy, I think... I think that was probably the best night of my life. Followed by possibly the worst morning," he said, wincing against the headache.  
  
"Mine too. Although, I'm not sure that it's humanly possible to consume as much alcohol as we did..." she couldn't prevent a grin from spreading across her face. She was so relieved that he didn't seem to regret it. She thought back to how it had happened...  
  
* * *  
  
The night before...  
  
"Viva, Las Vegas!" Cordelia sang as they approached the door to her room. "Ooh, shh!" she whispered at Angel. "People are... they're asleep." He nodded in agreement, while fumbling through her back for the key. Finding it, he tried to put it in the lock.  
  
"It doesn't... it doesn't fit..." he muttered, while trying to turn it. Suddenly, a rather brilliant thought crossed his mind. Turning the key in the opposite direction, he heard a click, and the door swung open.  
  
Standing inside the door, Cordelia looked expectantly at him. "You coming in, or what?" he obediently followed her into the room, sitting on her bed as she headed straight for the minibar. Pulling out a bottle of tequila, and a tray of lemon slices and a salt shaker that someone had thoughtfully placed there, she sat on the floor in front of him. He slid off the bed to sit opposite her. Pouring out a shot glass, she looked pensively at him. "I'm bored of drinking it this way."  
  
"Well, we could try something different," he said, moving to get up. She placed a hand on his thigh, pushing him back downwards.  
  
"No, dumbass," she said, giggling. "I meant the salt and lemon. Isn't there another way you can, well, y'know." He grinned lasciviously at her, taking the shot from her. "Hey!" She suddenly stopped complaining as he pulled her closer to him. Putting one arm around her, he drank the shot, then grabbed the salt shaker. He looked into her eyes, then lowered his face to her neck. He sensually licked a small patch of skin, shook some salt onto it, and licked the salt off her neck. He grabbed a lemon slice, and sucked on it.  
  
Cordelia was really enjoying herself now. Sure, maybe she was a little drunk, just a bit, not much. She was also incredibly aroused by the feeling of his tongue on her neck. Pulling back a little, she poured another shot, and quickly drank it, before looking up at him from under her eyelashes, and climbing onto his lap.  
  
"I want to try," she said, as she grabbed the salt. Angel took a deep breath when he felt her warm tongue on his neck, her crotch pressing against his own. He moaned as he felt her lick off the salt. When she reached for the lemon, he stopped her, entwining her fingers in one of his hands. With the other hand, he took a lemon slice, and placed it between his teeth. She looked at him, her eyes filled with want and excitement, and saw the very same thing mirrored in his gaze. Reaching up, her mouth nearly met his as her teeth went to close around the lemon. She dropped the lemon, and stayed in exactly the same position, straddling his lap, mouth a few centimetres from his.  
  
That was it. Angel thought he would die from the tension if he didn't do something. He closed the gap between them, kissing her hard. She immediately responded, grinding her body against his as he tightened his grip around her. Pulling her up with him, he stood just in front of the bed, still kissing her. She suddenly broke this kiss off, stepping back. He was more than a little disappointed.  
  
"What's wrong? I mean, do you not..." he finished abruptly as she stepped towards him again, and pushed him backwards, hard, causing him to fall on the bed. She looked at him for a second, before grinning lustily, and clambering on top of him, fumbling drunkenly with his clothes. They kissed frantically, breaking away to giggle every now and then. Cordelia reached over the side of the bed, and grabbed the bottle of tequila. Smiling evilly, she sat on top of him and poured some on his chest. Angel was about to complain, when he suddenly felt her lips on his chest, kissing him and licking up the tequila. She kissed her way back up to his mouth, and he flipped them over. Grabbing the bottle from her hands, he placed it on the bedside table, before leaning down to kiss her breasts, making her moan with ecstasy. It was lucky for them that the people in the room the other side were still downstairs getting drunk, or there would have been some serious complaints about noise levels the next morning. As it was, the whole floor must have heard the moaning, laughing and screaming that went on until dawn, when they both passed out.  
  
* * *  
  
Present  
  
Cordelia managed to raise her head slightly from the pillow, only to see slices of lemon and empty alcohol bottles strewn about the floor. She groaned, and let her head fall to the pillow again. She could not believe they had got through all of that. Ugh, did she never learn that alcohol is bad? It was more than worth it, though. It had made them both face up to their feelings for each other. Well, she hoped it had. Turning her head towards him, she found that he was lying so close to her that, if he had breath, she would be able to feel it.  
  
"Angel?" she said tentatively. "Was this just a... a one night stand? Or, is it... more?" she ended quietly.   
  
"Do you want it to be more?" he asked, just as quietly.  
  
She looked nervously at him, before swallowing, and started to nod slowly. He could almost feel his unbeating heart skip a beat, he was so happy. He had been terrified that it had just been sex, fantastic sex, but nothing more. Although, the things he remembered feeling as they lay together afterwards, sweaty and entwined... he was falling for her, hard. Carefully leaning in, trying not to irritate his aching head any further, he tenderly kissed her on the lips. She responded, then winced when it started getting too intense, and her head started throbbing almost as badly as after a vision. He pulled away, and sat up. The small movement made him want to curl up in a dark corner and die. He swung his legs over the bed all the same, and she tried to focus, since she wanted to appreciate the view. Hangovers were a bitch.  
  
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice croaking. Fighting the head rush that was trying to knock him over, and pulling on his trousers and shirt, he replied:  
  
"I'm going to check Wesley hasn't left any messages on the phone. I'll be right back," he reassured her, and padded across the room, carefully stepping over all the litter that was strewn about, grabbing his key from a pile of clothes in the middle of the floor. He swung open the door, checking the hallway was dark. Luckily, it was without windows. Just as he had left the room, and was trying to remember through the tequila-based haze how to use a key, the couple in the room opposite walked out. The woman gave him an evil glare, and looked away, while the guy gave him a surreptitious thumbs-up and a wink. Angel was horrified- had they been that loud? He walked over to the phone- one message. He pressed play.  
  
"Hello, Angel? I thought I should ring and tell you...[muffled giggling]...ah, that tickles! Uh, I won't be back until late tomorrow, and, uh, this trip was a bloody good idea! Thank Cordelia suitably for me, will you? I hope she didn't spend all our money... I have to go." He obviously paused before putting the phone down, because Angel could hear Wesley's muffled voice saying "I think I've found a new appreciation for ice cream, sweetheart," before he hung up. Way too much information, Angel wryly thought. Ice cream sounded quite interesting, though... stumbling back out the door, he walked back into Cordy's room, glad he had left the door slightly ajar. He looked at her lying on the bed.  
  
"So, are you joining me, or what? Someone told me once that sex is the best cure for a hangover..." she left the sentence dangling. Smiling, he threw off his shirt and trousers, and got back into bed. His hangover seemed to have already dissipated, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "I love you, Angel," she said quietly. That snapped him right out of any kind of daze he was in. Taking her in his arms, he gently kissed her, before murmuring:  
  
"I love you too, Cordy." She smiled.  
  
"Geez, and it took alcohol to get us to admit it. All hail to the Gods of tequila." He smiled, and rolled on top of her.  
  
"I seem to remember you praising a very different God last night", he said seductively.   
  
"We'll see," she replied, before he made her completely forget any hangover she may have had.  
  
FIN 


End file.
